


These Cryptic Hours

by pirateboots



Category: The Bletchley Circle, The Bletchley Circle: San Francisco (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateboots/pseuds/pirateboots
Summary: Jean and Hailey have made it their tradition to explore San Francisco's many wonders together, whenever their friends are otherwise occupied. Jean thinks that Hailey is just being nice, making sure that an old woman isn't stuck at home on her own. Hailey's true motivations are a whole lot more wonderful, and more difficult for Jean to comprehend too.





	1. To start, find letting agent to tout English residence; apartment for sale. (7)

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is set between episodes six and seven. The next two chapters take place after the finale.  
> The chapter titles are written in the style of cryptic crossword clues. Do comment if you solve them!
> 
> Huge thank you to my betas, lazarus_girl and Luke. This work wouldn't have been half as good without your invaluable contributions.

“How’s the strawberry?” asked Hailey, the moment her lips released her straw. Her blue eyes peered across the table from just above her excessively tall milkshake glass. The question was asked like Jean’s reaction to her own beverage was the most important thing in the world.

“Delicious,” Jean replied with a smile to show she was being sincere, not just polite. The strawberry milkshake was indeed divine, made with freshly blended fruits and far, far too much ice-cream.

“Good,” Hailey smiled, “Just don’t drink it too quickly. Brain freeze is a killer, you know.”

“Yes, I hear it claims as many lives a year as motoring accidents,” Jean quipped back, “or throwing yourself into freezing cold water,” she added, with an arched brow.

Hailey threw her head back and laughed, a loud and unfiltered laugh that filled the rather pokey diner they were sat in, and caused most of the other customers to turn briefly towards the noise. “You lived to tell the tale, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I suppose I did. That one and several others.” Jean referred to the other escapades that Hailey had managed to talk her into. It had become their tradition of sorts, starting with that evening on the beach. While Iris and Millie were otherwise occupied with children and a police officer respectively, Hailey would take Jean somewhere. Somewhere that she considered to be a must-see for any visitor to the Golden City. Jean had agreed with the assessment on most occasions, a picnic in the Redwood Forest being one of the highlights. Even the more questionable excursions – visits to the grimiest dive bars where the beer was warm, but the music wonderful, or that time they’d played crazy golf despite being equally terrible at it – had been thoroughly enjoyable hours thanks to the present company. Though Jean knew exactly what Hailey was doing - taking pity on an old woman who would otherwise be left alone in the house whilst her friends got on with living - she still appreciated the chance to make some memories of her own.

“And, you know, trying one of these probably won’t defeat the mighty Jean McBrian either,” Hailey said, motioning towards the large pile of fries that still sat on her plate. 

Jean sighed. She’d had her suspicions this was coming when Hailey had ordered a large serving of fries, on top of a cheeseburger which was already big enough to constitute a whole meal on its own. “Defeat? Oh no, dear. Offend? Most likely.”

“Come on,” Hailey urged. She made a point of studying her plate carefully, before picking out the largest fry in the pile and holding it out towards Jean. The poor, tortured slither of potato flopped in Hailey’s grasp, entirely unappealing.  “If you try it, I promise I’ll find a place that does fries – sorry, chips – like the Brits do next time.”

“Blackmail?” Jean feigned offence, but really the promise of a decent chip was too tempting to pass up. She reached out and took the offered fry, “Cheers,” she said before taking a bite. The fry was greasy, and salty, and rather delicious for it. “Not bad,” Jean admitted and finished the other half, “though they’d be better if they were thick enough to handle a little vinegar.” She washed the fry down with a hearty sip of milkshake.

Hailey grinned. “Well, a promise is a promise. I better get researching. Next time I take you out, chips are  _ definitely  _ on the menu.”

Jean made to smile around her straw. The expression faltered and turned instead to a grimace as the tip of the straw jammed into the roof of her mouth, Hailey’s choice of words hitting her square in the face. Just as violently as a good, old fashioned Glaswegian hello.

_ Take you out _ .

It surely couldn’t mean - could it? Jean straightened up on her seat, the shiny, red leather upholstery of the booth squeaking out a protest. She tried to study her dinner companion discreetly as Hailey made short work of the rest of the fries. Jean’s eyes darted from her face, to the checkered floor and back again. Her mind worked even faster than her eyes, recollecting every moment spent alone with Hailey, mining the gathered information like she would tease out the meaning of a coded lexicon. Jean had to admit that their little adventures could be construed as dates. If she was twenty years younger. If she was in any way the sort of woman that a lovely, young mechanic with a whole, bright future ahead of her would even consider stepping out with. She wasn’t that sort of woman. She was Jean McBrian. Sensible and slowing down. A tad on the  _ dull  _ side, if she was being perfectly blunt with herself. So no, this couldn’t be Hailey’s attempt at courting her. It was too improbable.

“So, what do you want for dessert?”

“Dessert?” Jean repeated the word like she’d never heard it before, too embroiled in her own thoughts to truly comprehend the question. Her brain was currently reviewing the various trips to the pictures they had taken together. They had watched Sirk's  _ All that Heaven Allows _ at Hailey's insistence. A film that involved a relationship between a man and an older woman. Had Hailey been trying to tell her something? Impossible. It was an enjoyable film, that was all. That had to be all. Hailey was  _ not _ trying to woo her.

Hailey cocked her head to the side, “Dessert. You know. The thing you have after your main course. Don’t you call it that?” she asked, blissfully unawares of Jean’s real confusion.

“No, we do. Or pudding.”

“But pudding is a certain kind of dessert! You Brits are real weird.”

“Oh?” Jean prompted, and she wished she were wearing her reading glasses just so she could peer over them.

“Don’t worry,” Hailey responded, putting up her palms in surrender, “I kinda like it.” There was no missing the reddening of Hailey’s face as she spoke. Her cheeks went pinker than Jean’s milkshake. “Anyway.” Hailey paused to clear her throat. “We should get ice-cream.”

“Isn’t ice-cream  _ and  _ milkshake a little redundant?” Jean pointed out. It was a struggle to keep her voice at an even pitch, for her previously reached conclusion had just been unmistakably proven false. She was being courted. By Hailey Yarner.

“Jean! Don’t go all ‘too much of a good thing’ on me,” Hailey protested. “Too much of something can be good. Some might say we’ve spent too much time together, for instance. Don’t see you complaining about that.”

Jean smiled despite herself, finding Hailey’s words far too sweet not to let them affect her.

“See,” Hailey gestured to Jean’s smile, “I’ll never see too much of that. In fact, I’d say I haven’t seen nearly enough.”

Jean felt her face grow warm, her high-collared shirt feeling too tight all of a sudden. Hailey Yarner was flirting. With her. Jean struggled not to laugh out loud. It was such a preposterous notion, and yet she couldn’t possibly deny it now. She did however have to decide what to do with this revelation. After all, where was it likely to lead? Jean still wasn’t entirely sold on the idea of a permanent move to the States. And for all Hailey’s sweet talking, it could turn out to be nothing more than a young woman’s infatuation. A crush that would run its course in due time, and risk leaving Jean looking a sad, old fool if she dared to respond. No, it was better to take the compliment - for what a mighty compliment it was - but do nothing and let Hailey’s feelings peeter out naturally. She would make sure not to do or say anything that might be read as a positive signal. It would be the kindest course of action, when all was said and done.

“Alright, a compromise,” Hailey offered, taking Jean’s silence as an indicator of further dessert-related indecision. “We could share one?”

“I suppose that would be less overfacing,” Jean conceded. “How about a knickerbocker glory?”

“A knickerbucketwhat-now?” Hailey’s eyebrows shot up towards her fringe in confusion. It had the effect of making her eyes look even larger than usual, at least until she narrowed them conspiratorially. “Is that a euphemism?”

“No!” Jean answered, a little too harshly. Still, she did regret bringing the word ‘knicker’ into the conversation. Then again, they had been there, done that, nearly caught hypothermia. It suddenly felt like starting on the back foot, deciding not to flirt with someone who’d already seen you in your smalls. Talked you into them, more accurately. “It’s a type of sundae. You have those, at least?”

“Oh. Yeah. Those we’ve got. Do you want to pick a flavour?”

“I’ll trust your judgement.” Jean didn’t have any delusions about her ability to pick out decent American cuisine. It was all a ‘knickerbucketwhat-now’ to her.

“You’re a brave woman.” Hailey grabbed the menu from the centre of the table and began to pore over the options, index finger tapping against her chin as she considered.

“And you’re trying to butter me up again.”

Hailey jerked her head up from the menu. “Butter? There’s an idea.”

Jean watched, puzzled, as Hailey caught the attention of a passing waitress. It occurred to her that watching Hailey with a slight to middling sense of confusion had become a staple of the time they had spent in each other’s company. It was never a vexing sort of confusion, though. More of an exciting sort, as she tried and usually failed to guess what new trick Hailey was about to pull from up her sleeve.

“Hey, can we get a butterscotch sundae please?”

“Two spoons with that?” the waitress asked, and despite her disinterested tone, Jean’s heart fluttered as she wondered what on earth the waitress must think about them sharing. She probably thought that they were relatives. An aunt and niece perhaps. Or worse, mother and daughter.

“That’d be great. Thanks,” Hailey confirmed, and the waitress sauntered off to fetch the requested dessert.

“Butterscotch,” said Jean, drawing out the word, “very clever.”

“I thought so. Though I’m guessing you’re going to disappoint me. Tell me it wasn’t actually invented in Scotland.”

“I’m afraid not, dear. Yorkshire, I believe.” Jean found herself smiling as an idea dawned on her. “Though, if you wanted to taste some proper Scottish food, we could always try to track down some haggis. I think it’s only fair after my ordeal with your American fries.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a savoury pudding. Seasoned sheep offal served in its stomach,” Jean explained, waiting gleefully for the expected reaction. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

“Huh. Sounds pretty good to me.”

Jean blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Sure,” Hailey said, with a laugh. “What do you think this Midwestern farm gal grew up on? Sure wasn’t the prime cuts from our livest- wait,” Hailey interrupted herself, “did you say a  _ savoury  _ pudding?”

The disgusted look on Hailey’s face was a picture, and Jean erupted into laughter. “Yes, I did,” she managed to confirm between guffaws. “Honestly, the less you try to comprehend the Queen’s English, the better off you’ll be.”

The laughter kept coming, quickly becoming contagious and spreading across the table, until Jean caught Hailey’s stare. There wasn’t any denying the light in Hailey’s eyes. The twinkle of attraction. So obvious now, that Jean wondered how she ever missed it before. She’d always prided herself on her keen skills of observation, and yet Hailey’s burgeoning crush had nearly slipped under her radar. In her defence, she still couldn’t quite believe it, despite all evidence to the contrary. Though she’d suspected for a long time that she and Hailey shared similar romantic inclinations, she wouldn’t have put a sixpence on those inclinations leading to this most flattering outcome. This potentially disastrous outcome. Jean caught herself and her laughter faded away. She had to step carefully, do nothing to encourage Hailey. That probably meant that raucous giggling and meaningful stares should be off the table.

“One butterscotch sundae and two spoons,” the waitress appeared at the table and set the dessert down with a flourish befitting such a fine looking ice-cream. The arrival of dessert provided a welcome distraction from the imminent awkward silence that would have followed Jean’s sudden mood change.

“Thank you, that looks wonderful,” Jean offered, and the waitress smiled and took her leave. “Goodness, where does one start?”

The sundae came in a glass even taller than the milkshakes and was filled to the point of overflowing with butterscotch ice-cream, laden with syrup. A large wafer adorned the top of the ice-cream mountain, and it was the wafer that Hailey immediately made a grab for. She carefully broke the treat into two nearly-even halves, before offering the larger piece across to Jean.

“Right here,” Hailey said.

The wafer didn’t last long at all, and the ice-cream fared little better. For how full she had felt after her hamburger, Jean put more than a fair share of effort into demolishing the dessert. All too fast, the spoons were clattering together at the bottom of the glass, as they both made for the last, rapidly melting scoop of ice-cream. Jean’s spoon came away triumphant, and without thought, she offered the prize to Hailey. “You did give me the larger piece of wafer,” Jean said, in justification, for Hailey seemed taken aback by the offering and had made no move to claim it. Seconds passed, until Hailey acquiesced, leaned across the table and ate the last morsel off the spoon. Jean’s eyes found themselves drawn to Hailey’s lips as they closed around the ice-cream, then darted elsewhere just as quickly.

Tension filled the air, a tension Jean had tried in vain to avoid. The static cloud remained with them as they got the bill and paid, and followed them into Hailey’s car, forcing Jean to roll down her window for air despite the chill. If the breeze was too cold for Hailey, she never once complained. In fact she said very little, which was telling. She’d usually fill the drive back to Jean and Millie’s home with chatter; pointing out various landmarks they passed, offering anecdotes about working with Iris at the Presidio that she’d never been able to share before, even singing along to the radio. And usually, Jean would chatter right back, the flow of conversation as smooth as the music at the Big Bop. As smooth as it had been at the start of their - she fumbled for the right word, but the only one that fit was the word she feared to utter, even to herself. Their  _ date. _

It had been foolish to offer the ice-cream to Hailey. It had been foolish to say yes to ice-cream, to trying a fry, to every ridiculous and wonderful suggestion Hailey had ever put forward.

Jean realised now the futility of her decision not to respond to Hailey’s advances. She’d been responding positively for a long time, without even realising it. Her body leading her somewhere that her mind could barely fathom. And why shouldn’t it? She may have been twenty years older than Hailey, but her heart still pumped warm, red blood through her veins just the same. Her eyes still recognised beauty when they saw it. In the crudest of terms, she wasn’t in the ground yet, nor had she any intention of being in the near future. As unlikely as Hailey being attracted to her was, it had happened, and Jean being attracted to Hailey was absolutely logical. The heart will want what it wants, mind be damned, and everything about Hailey was captivating. So, there they were. Two red-blooded adults, who liked each other a lot. There was nothing so complicated about that.

“Hey! Presidio to Bletchley, come in Bletchley.”

She turned away from the open window, and her thoughts, at the insistent sound of Hailey’s voice.

“I think this is your stop,” Hailey said once she had Jean’s attention.

Jean glanced to the window again, and there her house stood. She hadn’t even noticed the car pulling over. “Oh,” she muttered.

“You were really somewhere else then, huh?”

There was no point in denying it, though ‘entirely too present’ might be more accurate. Jean opted to glaze over an answer. “Thank you for the ride home,” she offered.

“Anytime,” Hailey answered with a lovely, genuine smile that Jean couldn’t help but fully appreciate. When the smile faded, Jean still didn’t look away. Moments passed, and the noises drifting through the window from the street faded to a distant buzz. “Jean,” Hailey started, before falling silent again. “I had a great time today,” she finished. Jean wondered if she had intended to say that when she first spoke her name, and wondered what she might have said or done in response, had Hailey been her usual, daring self.

“So did I.” Jean reached out and placed her hand over Hailey’s, only briefly, but long enough to feel Hailey grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “I’ll see you soon,” she said once she’d retracted her hand.

“You know it.”

With that, Jean got out of the car and began the climb to her front door. She took her key out of her handbag and turned the lock, allowing herself one look back towards the car - Hailey always watched her in - before entering the house and shutting the door behind her. The moment it clicked, she let out an extended sigh, and then her heart skipped as the horn of the car sounded from outside. After the shock, she smiled, assuming it was Hailey saying a last goodbye. In fact, if she had still had a visual on the car, she would have seen Hailey let out a long breath of her own, her forehead planting on the horn and making her jump in the process.

 

* * *

 

 

Millie’s ears pricked at the sound of the door to the first-floor apartment clicking shut, her nose buried in the newspaper crossword that had occupied her since she’d got back home.  _ Damn American spellings _ . “Is that you, Jean?” she asked, though it was unlikely to be anyone else. Since their home had been trashed during the business with the drug gang, they were much more vigilant about locking the door.

“No,” Jean’s voice filled the lounge, “it’s Santa Claus. I’ve come to tell you you’re on the naughty list this year.”

She looked up at her friend with a furrowed brow. “Whatever for? I’m home well before curfew!” she protested. She folded the newspaper in half and balanced it on the arm of her chair.

“Feet. On the coffee table,” Jean answered, pointing out the offending appendages.

Millie dropped her feet to the floor with a groan. “Oh, Jean, allow a girl a little luxury. I’ve walked my bloody feet off today.”

“I assume that means your date went well?” Jean took a seat on the sofa and removed her own shoes. Millie noticed immediately that they were one of Jean’s nicer pairs.

“It did,” Millie confirmed. “Though I’ve never met a man who can talk as much as Bill Bryce can when he gets going.” She and Bill had taken a long walk around the city, going nowhere in particular, just  happy to absorb the sights and enjoy the clear weather. Still, there were far too many hills in San Francisco, and Millie’s feet were paying for it.

“Oh wonderful! The poor man might have a chance of keeping up with you, then,” Jean teased.

Millie shot a glare at Jean, though it was all love and no malice. “What about you? Where’ve you been all this time? I’ve been home alone long enough to nearly finish the crossword.”

Jean tutted, “I was saving that crossword for bed tonight!”

“Ooh Jean, you minx! You’ll end up on the naughty list right under my name!” Millie laughed. She tossed the paper over onto the couch with a deft flick of the wrist. “Here, you can finish her off for me.”

“ _ Charming _ .”

“So come on, fess up. Where were you?” Millie repeated.

“At some obscure, little diner with Hailey. You know how she doesn’t like to think of me sat in on my own whilst you’re out gallivanting.”

Millie pursed her lips. She knew that there was a lot more to Hailey’s taking Jean here, there and everywhere than simple pity. The woman looked at Jean like the sun shone out of her - well, suffice to say that Hailey had taken more than a platonic liking to her best friend. Millie had been a little surprised when she’d first picked up on Hailey’s growing affections. It wasn’t that she didn’t think that Jean was an absolute treasure of a woman, for she certainly was. One simply didn’t expect someone so young and carefree to not only recognise Jean’s qualities under the prim exterior, but actually covet them. Apparently, the strait-laced, Scottish librarian look was in vogue in sapphic circles these days. What  _ was _ surprising was the suggestion that Jean wasn’t privy to Hailey’s crush herself. That couldn't be right. Things rarely got past Jean McBrian. A little digging was in order. “That sounds lovely. How was the food?”

“It was sublime. Though entirely too much in retrospect. Like any Scotswoman, I appreciate a generous portion size, but really these Americans can take things too far.”

“And yet they can be such wonderful company,” Millie prompted slyly.

“Yes,” Jean agreed, before pausing to clear her throat, “yes they can be.”

Millie didn’t miss the pinkish tinge that appeared on Jean’s ears, nor the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth, either. This was fascinating. “Is everything alright, chum?”

“Fine, why do you ask?”

“You just don’t seem quite yourself,” Millie said.  _ You’re sitting over there blushing like a schoolgirl,  _ she thought.

“Don’t I? It’s probably a touch of indigestion.” Jean answered, putting a hand to her chest.  “Hailey talked me into trying a fry, you know.”

That answer could have gone down as one of the biggest porkers Millie had ever been told, and she’d heard a fair few in her time. If Jean really was suffering from indigestion, she looked inexplicably happy about it, and Millie had never known pink ears to be a symptom. Yet it wouldn’t do to just barrel in and call out the lie. She had been friends with Jean for too long, and she knew that the wrong approach would only make Jean even more tight-lipped than usual. A balance had to be found between zealous interrogation and gentle prodding. “Goodness me!” Millie tried, “You know, I swear that girl has managed to talk you into more trouble than I ever have. What on Earth is her secret?”

“There's no secret,” Jean claimed. “Perhaps I’m not quite as set in my ways as you think.” With that, Jean picked herself up off the sofa and made her way into the kitchen. For how clandestine she was being with her verbal responses, Jean did an awful job of hiding the slight spring in her step.

“Perhaps not,” Millie said under her breath, head cocked to the side as she watched Jean go.

As was often the case, she had uncovered more than she was actually digging for. She’d been trying to ascertain whether or not Jean was aware of Hailey’s crush on her. Instead, she’d seen and heard everything she needed to conclude that Jean was just as sweet on Hailey. To the point of blushing and skipping. Millie always knew that Jean had more life left in her than she showed, but she wasn’t quite expecting that much. Something about Jean and anything to do with romance just didn’t quite compute. Clearly, some recalculations were in order, especially if she was going to help Jean to navigate this new territory. Of course she was going to have to help. This was Jean McBrian. The poor woman would probably fret and over-think the whole thing, and rob herself of the wonderful chance that now lay at her feet. Millie would be no sort of friend if she let that happen. No, she’d have to watch closely, be ready to stage an intervention at any time. If Jean took umbrage with that, well, she’d just have to get over it. Happiness was worth a little discomfort. And nobody was more deserving of happiness than Jean.


	2. One’s preferences unconventionally reside. (6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for some mature stuff towards the end of the chapter!

Jean’s hand hesitated millimetres away from knocking on the door, uncertainty hitting her. A lot had happened since she and Hailey had last been alone together. Since then, they’d managed to get themselves embroiled into some nasty business with the Russians. Business that might well have snowballed into World War Three, heaven forbid, and that Jean was lucky to walk away from with her heart still beating. Her hand dropped away from the door, hanging limply at her side. She took a steadying breath as memories of the ordeal flashed in her mind. Her stomach lurched, just like it had when the KGB agent tipped the chair she was tied to on its side, onto the bed sheet into which her body was to be wrapped up before being disposed of. She steeled herself. She was still here. By some miracle, her friends had worked out her location, and staged a stunning rescue just in the nick of time. Hailey had been the one to free her from the ropes with that trusty pocket knife of hers.

_ Hailey. _

Attempted assassination wasn’t the only major event to transpire recently. After the rescue and once wounds had been patched up, the intrepid gang of code-breakers had gravitated to the Big Bop for a stiff and much earned drink. That night at the bar, Hailey, brave and blunt as ever, told Jean that she loved her.

Jean had responded that she knew, but that hadn’t been entirely the truth. She’d known Hailey carried a torch for her ever since the diner. She hadn’t realised that Hailey’s crush had developed into genuine feelings. Not until the words were out of Hailey's mouth and hanging in the air between them. She had tried not to panic, to not show her surprise lest it be mistaken for rejection, or worse, disgust. Still, they hadn’t been in the most private of places, and Millie or Iris could have drifted over to the bar and overheard. So, Jean had kept things simple. She’d replied ‘ _ yes dear. I do,’  _ and put a gentle hand on Hailey’s shoulder in the hope that the touch would communicate that while it wasn’t exactly an affirmative reply, it wasn’t a shoot down either. Far from it. Jean didn’t think she was quite at the same place that Hailey was, but with a little more time and a lot more bravery, maybe she could be.  _ Maybe. _

So, here she was. Stalling outside of Hailey’s front door, with a bottle of wine in tow. The whole cab ride to the apartment, she had told herself that she simply didn’t want to break their tradition when Millie and Bill had made last-minute date plans. The attempt to pull the wool over her own eyes hadn’t worked. She needed to be brave. So, she’d grabbed some Dutch courage and come to Hailey’s. She’d come to be won over. All she had to do was knock on the bloody door.

Mentally counting down from three, she raised her hand again and this time, her knuckles made firm contact, giving two decisive wraps. Time stretched out before her, and she almost turned on her heels and left (she couldn’t even recall the last time she’d played knock and run), then the door opened, and the sight that greeted her rooted her to the spot.

“Jean McBrian!” Hailey said, those lovely blue eyes blinking back obvious confusion. Jean had never seen Hailey so relaxed. Her hair was unpinned, soft waves cascading past her shoulders. She wore battered looking jeans and a plaid shirt at least one size too big, unbuttoned at the collar. It was plain that she hadn’t expected to have any other business today, entertaining company included.

“Hello, Hailey,” Jean responded. Doubt about the whole plan started to creep in. “I hope you don’t mind my dropping by uninvited. Perhaps I should have telephoned-”

“Nonsense! You standing at my door unannounced, holding a bottle of wine? Best damn surprise I’ve had in a while.”

She inspected the bottle she was holding like she’d forgotten all about it. “I didn’t even know if you liked the stuff.”

“Well,” Hailey moved aside and motioned for Jean to enter, “you’re in luck. I’m not as uncultured as you’d think.”

Jean stepped past her, and cast a cursory glance around the converted warehouse space. It looked a lot tidier than the previous times she’d had cause to visit. Her gaze landed on the record player, attention drawn by the dulcet tones of Billie Holiday that drifted through the spacious lounge area. She recognised the song that played; ‘ _ Ain’t Nobody’s Business if I Do’ _ . “So I can hear,” she appraised.

“Oh, you can thank Sarge for that,” Hailey said, as she reached out and took the bottle from her, before making her way round to the small kitchenette. “Before she took me under her wing, all I’d ever listened to was hymns and country,” she explained with a glance back to Jean.

Jean gave a nod of understanding as she followed. Hailey had dropped hints about her childhood here and there, enough for her to piece together why Hailey had felt the need to run away at sixteen. Maybe one day, Hailey would feel ready to share the whole story.

Hailey deposited the wine on the counter and began to search through the cupboards, muttering to herself as she went. “Why those damn, rotten scoundrels!”

“Is everything alright, dear?”

Hailey straightened up from a cupboard, having procured not wine glasses, but two highballs. “My roomates must've made off with the nice glasses when I turfed ‘em out onto the sidewalk!”

Jean laughed out loud, quieting only at the sight of Hailey’s dismayed face. “Not to worry. You know, I’m not such a stickler for propriety as  _ you’d  _ think,” she said, echoing Hailey’s words. It seemed to be true as well. Until Hailey had made mention of them, she hadn’t even considered the risk of Hailey’s roommates being home. It was fortunate that Hailey had given them the boot before she came calling by unannounced. Jean doubted she’d ever been guilty of such a half-baked plan before.

Still looking somewhat disappointed, Hailey set the highballs down and uncorked the wine with a satisfying ‘pop’. She poured carefully, not wanting to overdo the measures in the too-large glasses. That done, she offered a glass over.

Jean reached for the glass, but hesitated. “Oh, I should probably take my coat off first. Is there anywhere I can hang it up?” Roommates. Coats. The list of things Jean forgot to consider seemed intent on growing longer.

“Oh, gee. Probably should have helped you with that before rushing to pour the wine.” Hailey’s face lit up then as inspiration hit. “You know what. Leave it on. It’s a beautiful, clear night out there.”

“What?” Jean asked. “You want us to go stand outside on the pavement?”

Hailey scoffed as she handed Jean’s glass off to her. “And have some creep pull up and ask what we’re offering?” She gave a little laugh. “No, silly. We’re going to the roof.”

With that, Hailey was off, enacting her new plan without need for further consideration. Jean could only follow behind, pulled along by the irrepressible tide that was Hailey Yarner. “You’d better put a jacket on, yourself,” she insisted, when it became clear that Hailey had no intention of stopping to do so.  She watched as Hailey opted instead to take a blanket off of an armchair, wrapping it around herself like a poncho. Jean shook her head in bemusement as Hailey, now reasonably protected from the evening chill, darted past and opened the front door.

“This way,” Hailey beckoned.

Keeping a firm grip on her highball glass lest she rob Hailey of anymore kitchenware, Jean stepped out of the apartment and followed Hailey towards the roof access stairway. When they reached the foot of the stairs, Hailey offered Jean her arm, and she took it gratefully, for the climb was a steep one.

“Are we even allowed up here?” Jean asked, the question almost getting lost as Hailey opened the door to the outside world, letting in a gust of cold air.

“Well, I’ve never gotten into trouble for it. And if we do, we can always get Bill to bail us out, right?”

“Oh. You bring a lot of people up here, do you?” The question left Jean’s mouth having completely bypassed her brain.

“No!” Hailey protested. “Not at all. I just like to come up here to think. And, you know, for fresh air when my roommates used to smoke out the apartment.”

“Point taken,” Jean conceded. “Though, I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” she said, casting her first glance up to the sky. Even with all of the light emanating from the city, there were stars out aplenty. “You certainly know how to find the best views.”

“It’s nice to have someone to share them with,” Hailey responded. She walked further away from the door, instead leaning back against the large, metal ventilation system that snaked over the roof. She looked over to Jean expectantly, until Jean joined her. “Hey,” Hailey raised her glass, “cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The two of them shared a quiet moment as they enjoyed their first sip of wine. The full-bodied red that Jean had opted for had a lovely warming effect as it went down.

“Sorry it’s been so long since I last checked in,” Hailey eventually broke the silence. “Now I’ve got to cover all the rent for this place myself, I’ve been taking every scrap of overtime I can get at the garage.”

“Don’t worry. I understand completely,” Jean replied. “Actually, I admire you for it. Far too few women realise just how capable they are of forging their own path, of making a career and supporting themselves.”

“Not us cryptologist girls, though. Well, you, the cryptologist, and me, the wrench monkey.”

“Oh, and thank goodness for you! Without you the world would literally grind to a halt.”  _ And so might I have _ .

“Not on my watch. As long as this girl’s armed with her toolbox, the world can keep on turning.”

Jean smiled at the mental image of Hailey taking a spanner to the whole globe, before gulping down a mouthful of wine. She hoped the alcohol would fend off the increasing chill as evening turned to night. “I hope you’ve got an oil can in that toolbox of yours. At this rate, you’ll need it to unfreeze me, when I’ve seized up like the Tin Man.”

“Only if you promise to sing afterwards. And blow steam out of your head.” Hailey didn’t miss a beat, picking up on Jean’s reference to  _ The Wizard of Oz _ , and responding in kind. She punctuated the quip with a flirtatious wink.

“I might just be able to do that if my head ices over. How is it that I always end up out in the bloody cold when I’m with you?”

“Maybe I’ve been hoping that you'll want to snuggle closer,” Hailey answered, choosing her moment. A slight croak in her voice revealed that she was nervous.

“Oh, Hailey-” Jean started, though she had no idea what to say next. Hadn’t she been waiting for this moment?

“Come on, Jean. You turn up at a girl’s house uninvited, with a bottle, when you know she’s alone? What else am I to make of that? Especially after what I said at the bar.” Hailey’s tone wasn’t pushy, just certain. She was only stating cold, hard facts. She was a sharp woman and she knew why Jean was here, perhaps more than Jean knew herself.

“I don’t suppose there are many ways to interpret my being here,” Jean admitted. The blanket that Hailey wore was wonderfully inviting, as was the hopeful look in her eyes. With a deep breath, she sidled in closer, her head coming to rest against Hailey’s shoulder. She clasped her wine in both hands, feeling them shake around the glass.

“There,” Hailey said, unfurling some of the blanket so that she could wrap it and an arm around Jean. “Better, right?”

She could only manage to hum appreciatively, too distracted by the warmth radiating from Hailey, by the gentle rise and fall of her shoulder with each breath, and by the feeling of Hailey’s hand squeezing her upper arm. It was almost too much. “We shouldn't be doing this,” she muttered, “ _ I  _ shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” Hailey asked. At the first hint of doubt, she let go, but made sure to leave the blanket draped over both of them.

“Well,” Jean cast her eyes down to the roof, before raising them to meet Hailey’s stare, “I’m twenty-three years your senior, to start with.”

“Pfft. Plenty of men have much younger wives. Nobody bats an eyelid at that. What does age matter anyways, if two adults really like each other?”

Jean took a while to reply, unused to not being the voice of reason. “You’re just so… young and… and vibrant,” she stuttered out, “and I’m - don’t you want somebody who can keep up with you?”

Hailey scoffed. “Jean. Do you know how many women I’ve met who’ve had me running round the whole damn city, fighting crime like someone outta the  _ Action Comics _ ?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. Maybe they should consider creating alter-egos and hiding their true identities, it might prevent them from getting into so much trouble. Speaking of which, “Does that make me Lois Lane?” she asked, referring to her status as bonafide damsel in distress during the last case.

“Ha! Would have been a hell of a lot easier if I could’ve flown you right outta that hotel room,” Hailey paused to take a sip of wine. “I’ve told you before that life has gotten way more fun since you arrived. I meant it. The things you do? The way your mind works? It makes me feel like I’ve been left with my backside in the dirt.”

That earned a rather skeptical look from Jean.

“I mean that in the best way!” Hailey assured. “I feel like I’ve gotta keep up with  _ you _ . And call me right crack stupid, but that feeling? It astounds me. You astound me, Jean McBrian.”

Jean’s heart fluttered against her ribcage at the conviction in Hailey’s voice and at the way she said her full name like it was a line of poetry. “You’re not right crack stupid, Hailey Yarner. You’re whip smart, beautiful inside and out, and so, so brave,” she said, mirroring what she had said to Hailey at the bar. She would repeat the sentiment as many times as was necessary to get Hailey to take it on-board. “You’re astounding and I… I truly adore you for it.” Jean finished. She hadn’t said that part before. There was no turning back now, no fleeing from this wonderful thing that was developing between them.

“Wow,” Hailey croaked, her face bright red even in the dim light. Her breath plumed in the air as she let out a long exhale. “I don’t know what to say to that... so,” Hailey paused, speechless in a way Jean had never imagined she could be, “may I kiss you?”

Sometimes, words weren’t necessary. Jean gave her answer by reaching out to cup Hailey’s chin with her right hand, pulling her face gently but insistently closer. Neither of them closed their eyes until the very last minute, perhaps afraid that the other would disappear if they weren’t looking. Then, their lips met in a sweet kiss under the stars. It was impossible then not to shut their eyes and let the wonderful feeling of intimacy wash over them. Jean’s lip trembled as they broke apart, but she was given little reprieve. Emboldened by her response, Hailey closed the distance between them again, kissing her with more fervour this time, taking the lead. Hailey’s free hand clasped the back of her neck as the kiss deepened; teeth nibbling against bottom lips, quick lungfuls of air snatched whenever they could be.

At some point, the blanket fell from their shoulders onto the ground. The sudden lack of protection against the cold went unnoticed for a long time, the warmth of Hailey’s lips and the closeness of her body were enough to keep away the chill. That was, until a particularly bitter gust of wind rushed over the rooftop, whistling in Jean’s ears over the thudding of her heart. She and Hailey shivered in unison and broke apart.

“Shall we?” Jean murmured breathlessly, not quite sure what she was really suggesting.

Hailey nodded in assent, bending to retrieve the blanket before retracing their path back to the stairway. Once again, she offered her arm to Jean for the climb down and then they were back in the welcome warmth of the apartment. She flung the blanket haphazardly on the nearest chair, before motioning for Jean’s glass.“I’ll just get these glasses out of our way,” she said. It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines and conclude that Hailey wanted all hands free to continue what had transpired on the roof. The moment Jean handed her glass over, she bounded over to the sink.

This time, Jean didn’t follow, feeling the need to take a quick moment to herself. She moved into the living area, taking off her coat and draping it over an armchair as she went, until she found herself standing before the hi-fi. The record had long since finished, the needle halted at the centre of the vinyl, waiting to be put back on the rest. On a whim, Jean changed the vinyl over to the closest one to hand. It was Sammy Davis Jr. this time.  _ Something’s Gotta Give _ . Hailey really did have immaculate taste. Jean heard her wander over from the kitchenette. She turned and watched as Hailey approached, allowing herself to drink in the sight unabashedly. She didn’t miss how Hailey’s lips were still kiss-swollen, and assumed hers must look much the same.

“Now,” Hailey said once she was nearly toe-to-toe with Jean, “where were we?” She came even closer, causing Jean’s back to meet the wall. “I’d say, right about,” Hailey’s voice dropped to a whisper, “here.”

Jean had thought their kisses on the roof desperate, but they were utterly chaste compared to the urgency with which they kissed now. Her hands cupped Hailey’s face fully, the softness of her cheeks a wonderful contrast to the force of her lips. Hailey’s hands found her waist and gripped tightly, a sensation that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. It sent her reeling and made her weak at the knees, until it felt like Hailey’s grip was the only thing keeping her upright. Jean fought to hold her own weight a while longer, but she wasn’t young anymore, and the cold wind had aggravated the old bullet wound on her leg.

“Hey,” Hailey breathed out as she pulled away slightly, perhaps sensing Jean’s unsteadiness. “I’m thinking a mattress would be great right about now. You?”

“That would be wonderful.” Jean let herself be led by the hand into Hailey’s bedroom. They came to a stop at the side of the bed.

“You know,” Hailey said with a barely suppressed smile, “I would hate for you to crease up that lovely outfit.”

Jean arched her brow at that, showing more confidence than she felt. Stripping down to your knickers for a late night swim was one thing, but this was entirely more intimate. She knew that Hailey had no intention of stopping at underwear tonight, and that knowledge was as terrifying as it was thrilling. Nobody had seen her nude in many years, and she hadn’t entertained the notion that someone would even want to see her undressed in almost as long. Now she had two choices. She could insist that Hailey took the lead, but perhaps seeing her reveal her youthful figure would only make her more afraid. Or she could bare all first and hope to conjure up some bravery in the process. The latter option won out and she started exactly as she had on the beach; by stepping out of her shoes.  _ Not so scary _ .

She met Hailey’s stare as her hands found the hem of her blouse, fingertips quivering against the silky fabric. Her heart felt like it had lodged in her throat and Jean gulped before pulling the blouse over her head and letting it fall to the floor. She watched as Hailey’s eyes widened and immediately dropped to admire the newly exposed skin of her arms and stomach, drinking her in. Taking Hailey’s staring as a positive sign, she went for the side-fastening on her skirt, only for Hailey to step forward and catch her hands, halting her progress. Wordlessly, Hailey moved her hands aside, before unbuttoning the skirt herself and, in doing so, assuring Jean that she had no second thoughts. They never looked away from one another as Hailey dropped to her knees, pulling the skirt down over hips and legs, her knuckles grazing Jean's stockings the whole way down to her feet, where she paused to allow her to step out of the garment.

The need to sit down became unbearable under the intensity of Hailey's roving eyes. Jean backed up until her legs found the mattress, lowering herself onto the bed. Hailey's attention shifted to Jean's face, a silent question in her look.  _ Do you want me to continue?  _ She took a breath and nodded her assent.

Her stockings went next. She watched as Hailey deftly unbuttoned them from her underwear, only to take her sweet time pulling the stockings off, one after the other. Her chest tightened at the feeling of Hailey’s fingertips tracing the definition of her calves, the bones in her ankles. She had forgotten how wonderful it felt to know that somebody wanted you, how erotic it could be to watch them as they got to know the curves and lines of your body. She gasped when Hailey’s fingers brushed against the backs of her knees, breathless at the rediscovery of surprisingly erogenous places. Hailey must have realised that she’d found a sensitive spot, for her fingers lingered there, and then she leaned forward and planted a hot kiss on the side of Jean’s left knee, marking her discovery like an explorer would plant a flag.

Hailey rose from the floor, pausing for a quick peck on her mouth on the way up, and then another, smiling against her lips all the while. Hailey’s eagerness was plain to see in the bright flush of her cheeks, and the unsteady breaths that escaped parted lips. Jean thought it time to even the playing field a little. Switching the focus to Hailey would give her a little time to process what was happening, while she was still in a state of undress that Hailey  _ had _ seen before. She reached out and tugged Hailey closer by the hem of her oversized shirt, allowing herself a wry smile at the surprise that flashed over Hailey’s features. She could feel the warmth of Hailey’s skin under the fabric. She raised her hands to the last button on the shirt and unfastened it, pulling the fabric aside to reveal the pale stomach beneath, before dipping her head forward to kiss just above Hailey’s navel, letting her mouth linger there. Stomach muscles quivered beneath her lips, prompting her to glance upwards, searching out Hailey’s eyes. Her hands found the next button up and then the shirt was falling open all of a sudden, as Hailey decided to lend a hand by starting from the top and working down to meet Jean’s progress.

“Oh,” Jean rasped out, leaning back to take in the sight before her. “I had intended to let you catch up, but it seems you’ve just pulled ahead, dear.” She couldn’t tear her attention away from the centre of Hailey’s chest, for it had been left completely bare. The bagginess of the outfit had disguised Hailey’s decision to forgo a bra. The open halves of the shirt only just kept her breasts covered, more of their curvature revealed every time Hailey breathed in.

“Can’t blame a girl for wanting to be comfortable of an evening,” Hailey replied with a grin, and without further ado, she shrugged her shirt off and let it fall to the floor. “Don’t worry though,” she continued, giving Jean no time to appreciate the view before she was pulling off her boots. Her jeans and knickers disappeared simultaneously. “I might have gotten ahead, but I have no intention of crossing the finish line without you.”

Jean threw her head back and laughed at the ridiculous line, at the ridiculous speed with which Hailey had undressed, and at the ridiculous fact that any of this was happening at all. “Oh, come here, you.”

Hailey needed no further encouragement. She climbed onto the mattress, kneeling at Jean’s side, totally naked and entirely unashamed about it. Not that she should have reason to be. She was absolutely stunning. So beautiful, that Jean still couldn’t fathom how Hailey could want  _ her _ , and yet she must, for she put a hand to Jean’s cheek, and pulled her in for another kiss. A kiss so passionate, so full of desire, that only the most stubborn of souls could still find room for doubt. Well, if there was ever a word to describe Jean’s soul…

As if intune to Jean’s thoughts, Hailey moved from her mouth down to her neck, peppering the sensitive skin there with open-mouthed kisses that made her shiver. She arched her neck as Hailey slowly marked a path along her jawline, up towards her ear. At the same time, Hailey’s arms wrapped themselves around her, fingers tracing along her back, seeking out and quickly locating the clasp of her bra.

“May I?” Hailey whispered against her ear, following the question with a hard swallow.

“Yes,” she said, nodding as her response had been barely audible. She felt the weight of her breasts shift as Hailey unhooked her bra and turned more fully at the waist, to make it easier for Hailey to slide the straps down her arms.

Usually when she found herself sitting at the edge of a bed like this, she was putting her bra on. Now, she watched as Hailey tossed the underwear away, caring not a jot where it landed. Neither did Jean. She was too focused on the unfamiliar experience of having her chest exposed in front of another person. There was a nervous exhilaration to it. She had thought she'd long since missed the chance where such intimacy might become a regular occurrence again. She'd thought she wouldn't miss how it felt to be with a woman in this way. It really did seem as though Hailey had come into her life precisely to shake everything up, to cast away every assumption Jean had made about her lot in life. Or perhaps she’d just pulled the curtains back and shed light on wants and needs that Jean had stowed away, only pretending she no longer possessed them.

“Jean,” Hailey prompted, voice raspy. She gave her hand a gentle tug and shuffled further towards the wall to make more room on the mattress - hardly a subtle invitation.

Jean edged back a little before lifting her legs onto the bed, turning until she was sitting fully on the mattress with her legs either side of Hailey. There was something she needed to do before she lay back. Under Hailey’s watchful eyes, she reached up and expertly removed the grips and hair tie keeping her immaculate bun in place. She used her fingers to tease out the style, until her hair was cascading loosely over her bare shoulders. Errant locks fell in front of her eyes and she felt a great swell of affection as Hailey reached out to brush the strands aside. When Hailey's hands lingered on her cheeks, Jean leaned forward and kissed her some more, increasingly certain that she would never tire of having those lips pressed to her own.

Still kissing her thoroughly, Hailey began to trail her hands down her neck, dancing them over her shoulders. Jean quivered when fingertips ghosted along her sides, both in response to the feeling and the knowledge of Hailey’s eventual goal. The moment Hailey’s fingertips found the hem of Jean’s knickers, she broke the kiss to lie back. Her deep brown tresses splayed over the pillow and she watched, amused and flattered in equal measure, as Hailey mouthed the word ‘ _ wow’ _ . It took a beat for Hailey to shake herself back into action and then she was whipping Jean’s underwear off with gusto. To Jean’s own credit, her hips lifted off the mattress to aid Hailey’s progress with equal enthusiasm. Her knickers joined the rest of their clothes on the bedroom floor,  _ la pièce de résistance _ o f the abandoned pile. 

A moment passed where she and Hailey simply gazed at one another, taking in all that had been uncovered. “You’re perfect, you know,” Hailey said, with a tremor in her voice. She remained kneeling in between Jean’s legs, looking down upon her body. She sounded so very genuine, and yet Jean had to wonder. Lying down and peering up at Hailey, she was made starkly aware of the differences between their bodies, each comparison marking out the years that separated them. The softness of her stomach versus the tautness of Hailey’s. The dappling of her collarbone, where Hailey’s skin was smooth, still unmarred by time. Hailey’s hands looked so very youthful against her body as they reached down and began to trace idle patterns along Jean’s hips and sides, round over her stomach. “Sorry,” Hailey muttered, “my hands are probably super rough. Perils of the trade.”

Jean blinked, her brow knitted in confusion as she processed Hailey’s words. She almost cursed herself aloud when she realised that Hailey must have taken her lack of response to being touched as a sign of displeasure. That couldn't be further from the truth. She needed to quiet her mind, to stop thinking so bloody much and just let herself feel. She smiled as she took Hailey’s hands in her own, lifting them to kiss her knuckles. Those hands, which had thrown punches in her defence, were indeed calloused, and all the more lovely for it. “They feel wonderful,” Jean assured. To quiet any lingering concerns, she lowered Hailey’s hands onto her chest, hoping that she would continue her explorations. The prompt worked splendidly, for Hailey grinned and lowered herself down, until their bodies were flush. Jean welcomed the contact with a long, heated kiss. She felt Hailey’s body tremble when she sucked on her bottom lip. Her arms and legs draped themselves around Hailey’s form, pulling her close. She relished the feeling of Hailey's weight atop her, the heat of her body warming Jean through. She sighed with pleasure when one of Hailey's hands found its way back to her chest, palming a breast. Those work-roughened fingertips were absolutely delightful against such sensitive flesh. When Hailey pulled her face back to gauge Jean’s reaction, she took the opportunity to drop her lips to Hailey’s throat. She placed deliberate kisses on that adorable pattern of beauty spots Hailey had on her neck, realising as she did so just how much she’d always wanted to, just how much she’d wanted Hailey like this.  

Lips still exploring Hailey’s neck, her hands dropped low to grab at shapely buttocks. She pulled Hailey closer still, encouraging her to start moving against her, Jean’s body aching with a longing to be touched in ways it hadn’t been for far too long. She gasped out Hailey’s name against her throat as the hand on her chest got bolder, fingers brushing over the nipple with increasing purpose until it stiffened. At the same time, Hailey rolled her hips forward, letting out a whimper of her own as she pressed between Jean’s thighs. Hailey’s hand moved away from Jean’s breast, leaving her quite bereft until the hand drifted downwards.   

“Can I touch you?” Hailey asked, keeping her hand poised low on Jean’s stomach.

She sucked in a breath, the question making the keen ache she felt even stronger as the anticipation reached breaking point. “I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more … and, I’d wager, neither have you,” she answered, barely above a whisper.

The weight of Hailey’s gaze, the expectation, was almost too much, until Jean thought she would burst and then, then there was nothing left to anticipate. Hailey leaned down to kiss her again, at the precise moment her hand drifted down between Jean’s legs, her fingertips stroking with the gentlest of touches. Even this light contact sent Jean’s head spinning. A surprised gasp escaped her when that touch got firmer, and Hailey’s kisses harder with it. She found herself clinging desperately to Hailey, arms wrapped around her neck, fingernails digging into shoulder blades.  _ Had it always felt so wonderful?  _ She let the question drift. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was what she was feeling now, in this moment, with Hailey. For the rest of a glorious, long night, Jean concentrated on nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let older women be sexual 2kforever.  
> Hailey Yarner, Queen of consent.


	3. Umpteenth rallyist holds intrigue. (8)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning that there's some difficult subjects raised in this chapter, particularly surrounding character backstories. Stay safe, folks!

Hailey fought against the urge to open her eyes for as long as she possibly could. She was half-convinced that if she let herself stir, that would be that. The warm arm draped around her middle, the softness of breasts pressed against her back, the gentle tickle of breath on her neck - all would be revealed as a dream. Pathetic as it was, it wouldn't be the first time her unconscious mind had conjured up something so magnificent, only for her to wake up and be left wanting. She had to hand it to her brain if this was an elaborate illusion. It was cruelly realistic.

“Good morning, dear,” a voice, with an unmistakable Scottish burr, said in her ear.

_ Damn. _ Her brain had even learned the sound of Jean’s voice by heart.  _ You’re done for, Yarner. _

“Mornin’,” she responded tentatively, eyes scrunching tighter shut. If she was talking to a figment of her imagination, if this was a descent into madness, it was a darn sweet fall.

The mattress shifted along with maybe-a-dream Jean as she stretched, the weight of her arm disappearing from Hailey’s waist. Hailey murmured an unintelligible protest as goose pimples rose over the skin left uncovered, no longer protected from the chill seeping under the covers. It wasn’t long until the arm was back, however, wrapping itself around Hailey more deliberately now that its owner was awake. Gentle fingers traced over her sternum. The slight tickle felt amazing. It felt decidedly corporeal, too. Hailey supposed it was time to face the music. She breathed deeply and opened her eyes, one at a time. The first thing she focused on was the sizable pile of discarded clothes that littered her bedroom floor. Then, as she turned onto her back, the next thing she saw were a pair of gorgeous, brown eyes watching her closely.

“You’re really here,” Hailey said before she could stop herself. It wouldn’t take a genius to suss out that she meant that in opposition to only dreaming about them being here. So of course, Hailey would put her foot right in her mouth when she  _ did  _ have a genius in her bed.

“Yes, it would seem that I am,” Jean said gently. Amusement danced over her face, emphasising the attractive laugh lines around her eyes. She might be real after all, but she was an absolute vision all the same.

Hailey decided right then that she could quite happily stay put on the pillow and just look at Jean all day, basking in how lucky she was to be privy to such a sight. Well, maybe look at her and kiss her some more too. There wasn’t a chance she could resist those perfect lips, now that she knew they were plenty willing to be kissed. Her attention dropped to Jean's lips as she thought about them, and Jean responded by dipping down for a chaste peck, before settling herself with her head propped up on an elbow.

“Did you sleep alright?” Hailey asked, filling the quiet with small talk while her freshly-conscious mind whirred into overdrive. She thought she had done quite well at keeping her cool last night, at masking her nervousness. Not so anymore. She was lying next to Jean, both of them totally naked, and Hailey still couldn’t quite comprehend these things as facts. Who could blame her? She was just Hailey Yarner. The grease monkey. The farm hick. Nobody special.

“Very well, all things considered. I’m definitely not used to being squashed up in a single bed with someone else. I think you rather wore me out.”

She was nobody special and yet such a remarkable woman as Jean had ended up cramped in her bed. Now morning had come and, thus far, Jean showed no signs of regretting what had happened between them. What had happened between them  _ twice  _ to be exact. Wonders never ceased. “Hey, give yourself some credit too,” Hailey insisted. “After all, I remember you being game for a second round first,” she pointed out with a satisfied grin. “I’d say we wore each other out.”

Jean gave her a gentle swat on the shoulder for her lip. Then she glanced away from Hailey to the clock on the bedside table. “Goodness me, is that the time? We should really get some breakfast, before it’s lunchtime. We could always bring it back to bed with us.”

‘Morning after’ breakfast in bed with Jean McBrian. On a list of amazing things that Hailey didn’t think she’d be doing on a Friday morning, that would probably feature near the top. This was shaping up to be a fine day. Or not, as Hailey had a terrible realisation. It was Friday. A weekday. A  _ work  _ day. She frowned and turned her head towards the clock too. The face read 9:20am. She should have been at the garage a whole twenty minutes ago.

“Holy doodle!” Hailey pulled out of Jean’s hold, springing off of the mattress like it had suddenly become lava. She shivered against the chill, heels bouncing on the cold floor.

“Hailey?”

“I’m so freakin’ late for work!” she exclaimed, darting over to her dresser and grabbing out clean underwear.

“Oh no, you’re not going to be in trouble are you?”

“Only a little,” Hailey assured, hoping she was right. “I’m the best damn mechanic they’ve got. I’ll just have to grovel some. Work a little unpaid overtime. Don’t worry.” She got herself into her bra and knickers, before turning at the sound of Jean getting up. All thoughts of getting dressed fled Hailey’s brain the moment her eyes landed on Jean, standing beside the bed in all her naked splendour, arms raised as she twisted her hair back into a much messier bun than she usually wore. Hailey stared shamelessly. She couldn't help herself. Jean was just so gorgeous like this. Alluring, with all her womanly softness on show. She was head-to-toe perfect.

“I thought you were in a rush?” Jean pointed out when she noticed Hailey’s gawping. Despite the arch of her brow and the pursing of her lips, Hailey could see that she’d gone rather pink.

“Right, yeah.” Hailey nipped to the bathroom for her toothbrush, returning to get dressed with it protruding from her mouth like a wheatsheaf. She paused occasionally to glance over her shoulder, watching as Jean searched about the room for her own clothes. She was caught staring again when she sniggered at Jean locating her bra on the desk - Hailey hadn’t realised she’d thrown it with such force. If she was about to get fired, maybe she should consider a career in baseball. A retaliatory warning glance from Jean had her buttoning up her shirt with record speed. Lastly, Hailey procured a clean set of overalls from the drawers and slung them over her arm.

“It’s been some time since I’ve had to put day-old underwear back on,” Jean muttered, her nose scrunched up in distaste at the notion.

“Then don’t put them back on,” Hailey suggested, speaking around her toothbrush.

“Oh, a fabulous idea!” Jean sassed. “That would look well. Turning up at the flat having been out all night, and proceeding to pull my knickers out of my handbag. Millie would have a bloody field day, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Jean, that ship has sailed!” she exclaimed. She finished cleaning her teeth and waved the brush around in her hand to emphasise what she was saying. “You’re already going to turn up in the same clothes you left in, and Millie’s gonna know where you’ve been all this time, right?”

“Yes, she is. After my little Soviet adventure, we don’t leave the house without letting each other know where we are going. I left her a note.” Jean looked pensive, probably realising that there was little to no chance of escaping an interrogation from Millie. “Well, if one’s going to make a scandalous entrance, I suppose one might as well own it.” With that, Jean got herself dressed, sans knickers and stockings, which she bunched up in her hands, ready to deposit in her handbag. “Why don’t you go on ahead, dear. If you leave your key, I’ll lock up and you can pick it up on your way home.”

“Why? How are you planning on getting back?”

“I’ll hail a cab,” Jean said.

Hailey scoffed. “Nonsense. I’ll drive you home. It’s in the right direction anyways.” That wasn’t quite true. “Roughly.”

“Don’t be daft! You’ll be two hours late at this rate.”

“Like you said. If you’re gonna make an entrance...” Hailey shrugged. “I really would have liked to spend a lazy day with you,” she admitted. “Please, let me drive you home. So we don’t have to say goodbye just yet.”

Jean beamed affectionately at her and gave a nod, “Alright then. You’ve won me over.”

 

* * *

 

The ride home went by far too quickly for Jean’s liking. She couldn’t blame Hailey for stepping on the gas, but she wished they could slow down just a little. Last time it had been just the two of them in Hailey’s car, Jean had barely registered the journey, too caught up in the revelation that her dinner companion had been courting her all along. Now, she was all too aware of every turn of the wheels, for each go round brought her closer to the flat, closer to facing the consequences of her nightlong absence. Closer to facing Millie’s scrutiny.

Jean didn’t even know for certain if Millie was aware of her romantic preferences. She’d always assumed so, Millie wasn’t one to miss such a detail about a friend. She’d thought that Millie simply hadn’t brought the subject up because Jean never had. There had never been cause to mention it and risk kicking up a fuss. Until now. There was no avoiding the subject anymore. A door that had been kept firmly shut was now ajar, leaving room for doubt to creep in. For how well Jean knew her best friend, for how much she trusted that Millie wouldn’t have a problem with it at all, there was always a chance to be unpleasantly surprised. She’d learned that lesson decades ago and lost other friends in the process. If she lost Millie...

Her forehead started to ache with the intensity of her frown. She’d woken up so happy, giddy even, suggesting breakfast in bed without second thought, knowing full well that it was likely to lead to several more hours spent in bed with Hailey. Jean supposed that the longer she had stayed, the worse her homecoming would be, but at least she wouldn't have had to think about it for longer. She wouldn’t have even been able to think about it, if Hailey had maintained her spectacular level of performance from the night before. She had been sublime. In fact,  _ they  _ had been sublime. Hailey was right, Jean should give herself some credit. Her confidence had grown over the course of their night together, as she realised that her skills as a lover were much the same as her skills as a cryptographer. They may not have been needed for some time, but they were certainly still present, thank you very much. Now, all of that confidence Jean had built up leached away.

“You’re awful quiet over there,” Hailey stated, glancing at her briefly. Jean noticed her hands fidget on the steering wheel. “You OK?”

“Yes.” The answer was too curt to be convincing. Jean winced. She’d have to elaborate, otherwise Hailey would assume she’d done something to trouble Jean. For all her outward bravado, Hailey possessed a heartbreaking propensity for self-depreciation at times. “I suppose I’m just a wee bit worried about explaining all this to Millie,” she explained in a hushed voice.

“Oh,” Hailey offered. There was a definite air of relief in her voice, so that Jean felt a little more at ease with her decision to speak plainly. “Jean, doesn’t Millie know that you’re … like me?” Hailey echoed the very question Jean had been puzzling over.

“I’m honestly not sure,” she admitted. “I think she must. We are practically sisters, after all. There’s just that nagging fear that she has missed it all these years, that she’s going to find out now and everything will change. You know how -”

“People can be thick as cow muck when it's something they don’t want to notice,” Hailey finished for her, being more blunt with her words than Jean would have been.

Jean gave a bitter laugh.“Quite.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about Millie at all.” Hailey assured. “She’s a smart cookie. I bet she figured it out long ago, and just hasn’t mentioned it because you haven’t. Besides, she hasn't got a problem with her cousin, so she shouldn't have one with you.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” Jean fell quiet again, watching the traffic go by and half-listening to the radio. That was until Hailey cranked the volume for the next song and started singing along. Jean smiled, both at the positively wonderous sound of Hailey’s singing voice and at the song in question. The universe’s sense of humour was on fine form today.

“ _ Oh _ ,  _ it wasn’t really my intention, to disregard convention.”  _ Hailey sang, her voice clear and high. Beautiful. She knew every word too. Jean thought that her head must be as crammed full with song lyrics as hers was with ciphers.

“How on Earth do you remember all of the words?”

Hailey paused her singing to answer, “Well, we have the radio on all day at work,” before carrying on with the rest of the tune. She made a point of looking over at Jean when she sang the title of the song, “ _ Aren’t you kinda glad we did?” _

They reached Jean’s street as the song finished, the last notes fading into the next tune as Hailey pulled up in front of the house. Jean gave a small round of applause, to which Hailey bowed her head with exaggerated pomp.

“Well,” Jean said, “here be dragons.”

Hailey gave a snort. “It’ll be fine. Millie’ll be fine. I mean, she’s gonna tease you to hell and back, but you shouldn’t get into such a twist about that. I know from experience,” Hailey paused to flash her a smirk, “Jean McBrian can give just as good as she gets.”

“Cheeky,” Jean bit back. Still, she couldn’t fight the upward turn of her lips. “You’d better get yourself going.” Jean’s hand poised itself on the door handle.

“I wish I could kiss you goodbye,” Hailey blurted out. It was impossible and they both knew it; there were too many people passing by on the street to take such a risk.

“I wish you could too,” Jean confessed. “Hailey, I hope my brooding hasn’t made you think I regret what happened. I don’t at all. It was really very wonderful.”

“It was.” Hailey grinned widely. “See you later, Jean.”

Jean got out of the car and turned to stick her head back through the door. “Thank you for the lift, dear.” She dared to blow a quick kiss to Hailey and gave herself just enough time to enjoy the way Hailey’s cheeks reddened before she shut the door and the car sped off. Jean watched until it turned the corner and then she spun to face the house, her attention focusing immediately on the upstairs window of her living room. Well, she could hardly stand outside all day, especially not with the draft blowing up her skirt, prickling at her unprotected legs. With a steadying breath, Jean made her way up to the house and climbed the stairs to the converted apartment. She unlocked the door, and stepped into her home with her head held high. She barely got to take in the sight of the lounge before she was pounced on, her vision obscured by Millie as she barrelled out of the kitchen towards her, a million and one questions burning in her expression.

“Jean!” Millie exclaimed. “You dirty stop out! Where on God’s green Earth have you been?”

Jean raised an eyebrow. She knew full well that Millie had seen the note she’d left explaining her whereabouts. Unless she thought Jean had lied on the note, writing that she’d gone to visit Hailey, when in fact she’d been off cavorting with some unknown suitor.

“I suppose I can’t be angry at you for lying on your note,” Millie continued, seeming to hear Jean’s thoughts and making her heart lurch. “After all, you did write that you wouldn’t be back ‘late’. I believe arriving home at 10AM the following morning does qualify as being back early!”

“I’m sorry if I worried you, it wasn’t my intention to be gone all night.” Jean made an attempt to get past Millie, but her friend was having none of it and nimbly blocked her path.

“I can see that. Those are the same clothes you were wearing yesterday. Now, am I getting details, darling, or am I going to have to bribe them out of you? If so, I’ll make sure to bring you a pastry home from work this evening.”

Jean gave a scoff. “There’s nothing to bribe out of me, Millie,” she insisted. “I went to Hailey’s, we had a drink and she wouldn’t hear of me taking a cab home alone so late, so I stayed there.”

“Well,” Millie retorted, “that must have been an awkwardly snug sleepover. Considering the girl doesn’t even own a sofa! Really, Jean, you know I wasn’t born yesterday, so please drop the pretense and spill the beans.”

Jean didn’t respond. Millie wasn’t being harsh, only honest, only as interested in her personal affairs as any best friend would be. Still, any words Jean could muster got stuck on her tongue. She felt herself burn under Millie’s scrupulous gaze.

“Jean,” Millie said more gently, a frown appearing on her face. She took Jean by the arm and led her to the sofa, saying as they walked, “oh you silly, old thing, tell me you don’t think I don’t know.”

They sat down next to each other and Jean attempted to smooth over the creases in her skirt. “I wasn’t completely sure,” she revealed. “I’ve never come close to bringing it up, after all. It can be easily missed by…” Jean paused to consider her words, “by people who have no cause to acknowledge that women like me even exist.”

“I’m not one of those people, Jean. For the record, I’ve enjoyed a few dips in the pond myself, as it were.”

Jean’s eyes widened at that revelation, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Not for a long time, it’s difficult when one doesn’t necessarily move in the right circles. Being at Bletchley was a gift in that way. All those independently-minded women gathered together.”

“You mean to say that you had a relationship with another woman at Bletchley?” Jean was incredulous. In her senior position at the Park, she’d been well aware of the fraternisation that went on between the cryptologists, of every sort under the sun. Nothing involving her best friend, though. She had to hand it to Millie for her discretion.  

“Gosh, relationship is a bit strong. I had a...” Millie paused, pursing her lips as she thought, “a brief affair, shall we say. Do you remember Catherine Holland from Hut 8?”

Jean wracked her brain to put a face to the name. She recollected an attractive brunette with an upper-class accent to rival Millie’s. “Ah yes, I remember. She was transferred to Beeston Hill in forty-one.”

“And so ended our little tryst,” Millie confirmed.

She took a moment to absorb this information. She supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that Millie had enjoyed relationships with women as well as men. That she’d missed the telltale signs was on her. She’d put her blinkers on all these years to shut off her own desires and missed so much more in the process.  “How long have you known about me?”

“Since Bletchley, actually,” Millie replied. “Nineteen-forty to be exact, around the time the Blitz really got going. There was an awful sadness about you all the time. At first, I thought you must have lost someone in the bombings, but then I realised that it was a different type of grief. It was the grief of heartbreak, hanging over you like a great shadow. We’d become friends by then, I kept waiting for you to say something, to tell me who it was that had broken your heart. You never did, nor had you mentioned being in a relationship before that. Let’s say I recognised the patterns,” Millie finished, with a wry smile.

Jean couldn't quite bring herself to return the smile. She felt a lump form in her throat as memories she’d kept resolutely boxed away came back in a torrent. “Excellent work as usual, Millie,” she sighed. Her hands wrung themselves in her lap. “Her name was Marnie. Marnie Campbell.” It was a name she hadn’t uttered in years, the name of her first love. “She was a paramedic, we met when a colleague of mine had a seizure at work and I accompanied her in the ambulance. When we arrived at the London, Marnie pulled me to one side and told me she recognised me from one of the bars I used to frequent, told me she’d be there on Friday night if I fancied a drink. I remember being so taken with her confidence, of course I showed up at the bar.” Jean gathered herself, putting the salient facts in order in her mind before she carried on spilling her guts. “We were together for seven years in all. Rented a tiny London flat together. Then I was recruited to Bletchley. I told her that I was taking a clerical position with a building society in Buckinghamshire, that they were hiring women and paying them well to do the work three men would have before the war. The pay was so much more than I was making at my old job, I thought it would be our chance to save up for a real home together. We just had to put up with a year or so apart.”

“It ended up being more than a year or so,” Millie prompted.

“Yes. How naive I was. The years apart piled up, and so did the secrets I had to keep. I couldn’t tell her what I was really doing, about the lives I was helping to save, and the ones I had a part in sacrificing for the greater cause. Our letters and phone calls grew more and more impersonal. It started to feel like a formality, talking to one another, keeping up the pretense that we were managing the distance like we thought we would.” Jean stopped when she felt tears form, blinking them back.

“And to make matters worse, you felt you couldn't talk to anyone about  _ her _ either.” Millie said, her own voice strained with emotion. She always managed to hit the nail right on the head.  “Oh, Jean, I  _ do _ wish you had told me.”

“I doubt it would have helped. Marnie volunteered herself as an air raid warden. The stress of worrying about her safety was the last straw. We were talking on the phone one night, and I got overly brusque, told her I couldn’t stand not knowing where she was for days at a time. She responded by telling me she felt exactly the same. I was terrified she’d get caught in a bomb blast, and she’d convinced herself the real reason I’d stayed away so long was because I was being unfaithful. I tried to talk sense into her, but it was no good. It’s not as if I had the choice to reveal the truth to save my relationship. There’s no recovering from that loss of trust. We ended things, that night. Over the phone. I only saw her once more after that, when I moved back to London and had to collect the rest of my belongings from our flat. When I knocked on that door, it felt like a total stranger answered.”

Millie let out a great, compassionate sigh and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so very sorry you had to go through that alone,” she said.

Jean shrugged in Millie’s grasp. “What’s done is done. I’m glad I got to tell you about her now.”

“So am I.” Millie pulled back. “Especially because I think it’s always a good idea to put a full-stop on the past before turning a new page.” The conspiratorial smile returned to Millie’s face, clashing with the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Now, please don’t say you’re going to wait another sixteen years before you’ll tell me what happened with Hailey last night.”

Jean let out a croaky laugh, followed by one last sniffle as she wiped at her eyes. It was about time to raise the white flag. “You know full bloody well what happened with Hailey last night, you terror.”

A knock on the door prevented Millie from pushing for specific details, though Jean’s relief at the interruption was short lived. She was in no fit state to entertain company.

“Oh, that’s probably Iris,” Millie glanced towards the door. “You better make a hasty retreat to your room, chum. I’ll distract her with a pot of tea while you put yourself in order.”

Jean nodded in agreement. She got up and made towards her room, while Millie headed for the front door.

“Jean, I have to ask,” Millie said.

She stopped and turned her head over her shoulder, waiting for Millie to finish.

“Where the hell are your stockings?”

Jean smirked. “They’re in my handbag, dear,” a pause for effect, “along with my knickers,” she finished with a pointed look that turned smug when Millie’s mouth dropped open.

“Well,” Millie replied with a hand on her hip, “at least it’s not a hundred grams of heroin in there this time.”

Iris and Millie were halfway through a packet of biscuits by the time Jean had made herself presentable. She didn’t think she’d ever been so relieved to see a tube of toothpaste before. All the time she was getting dressed, she had been going over what to say to Iris to explain her tardiness. Usually when there was a pot of tea on the go, Jean was pouring a cup first. She continued rehearsing her excuses as she approached the dinner table. She had indulged in a lie-in. She hadn’t fallen asleep until late. Neither were total fabrications, she merely needed to leave out the part where she’d spent the night rolling around with the woman Iris saw as a surrogate daughter.

“Jean! Good morning!” Iris greeted her with a bright smile as she made it to the table and took a seat.

“Morning, I hope you don’t mind my lateness to the tea party.”

“Not at all,” Iris pushed the biscuits over to her. “You’ve arrived just in time to save Millie and I from ourselves.”

Biscuits for breakfast wasn’t really up to Jean’s very Scottish standards when it came to the most important meal of the day, but she was prepared to make an exception this morning. She was famished. She tried not to eat too quickly, lest she prompt Iris to ask what had caused such a voracious appetite.

“I was just telling Millie that I passed Hailey in the car on my way here. I wondered why she was so far out from work.”

An unpleasantly sharp piece of biscuit lodged itself at the back of Jean’s mouth. She fought to swallow it down as she groped for a believable explanation for Hailey’s proximity to the flat. “Oh, she just popped round to…” she started and quickly trailed off, coming up empty.

“Now, there’s no need to be coy, Jean,” Iris said with a mischievous look that would give Millie a run for her money. “I think it’s very sweet of her, to drive you to and from your dates with Mr Beamish.”

An awful sputtering noise emanated from Millie and Jean cast a glance to her friend. She had evidently nearly spat out her tea upon hearing Iris’s assumption.

“Sorry,” Millie apologised, still coughing, “went … went down the wrong way.”

Jean shot Millie a warning glare. By this point, her pulse was thudding in her ears and her mouth was bone dry. Still, Iris had just offered her a gift. A bitter sort of gift, but one that shouldn’t be squandered. It wasn’t her place to put Iris right, the choice of how and when to do that was Hailey’s, and Hailey’s alone. “Yes, it is sweet of her,” Jean said. “She’s a wonderfully generous soul.” The statement earned her a knowing tap on the shin from Millie’s shoe, under the table.

“She sure is that,” Iris beamed with pride. “Now, am I to assume that things are getting serious between you and Mr Beamish? With you stopping out and all.” Iris held up a hand, “I hope you don’t think I’m being judgmental. Lord knows Marcus and I didn’t manage to wait until we were wed,” she added hurriedly.

Jean took a long drink of tea before responding. This was exactly why she had avoided romantic entanglements since Marnie. The awkwardness and pain of having to keep secrets from those close to you. Having to lie, either outright or by admission, about the very fabric of one’s heart. Was it really worth it? Jean hadn’t been sure for a long time. She still wasn’t. Yet she had one thing going for her now, that she hadn’t had back when she’d been with Marnie. She was a Bletchley veteran. If anyone was qualified to keep a whopper of a secret, it was her. “I suppose it might be getting a little serious,” she admitted. “After all, it’s a different world we live in now.”

 

* * *

 

The Big Bop was packed like it always was on a Friday evening, four regulars in amongst the crowd. Hailey nursed her pint of beer, hand clasping the nearly full glass, but making no move to lift it to her mouth. She was well behind the other three. All their drinks sat on the usual table close to empty. She’d like to think she was just taking her time drinking it because she’d have to switch to soda on the next round, for it to be safe to drive home. In fact, the beer wasn’t going down as well as it usually did because there was a real uncomfortable tension in the air around the table. A tension between her and Jean. While the live music in the club was starting to warm up nicely as the evening progressed, the mood between the two of them seemed ready to snap freeze. Hailey could only hope that Millie and Iris couldn’t sense the charged atmosphere, the fizzle of huge things going unsaid. She just wished she knew for sure what those unspoken things were. Was the tension just a product of the detestable need to pretend, or was it something more heartbreaking? Could it be that after more time to think, Jean was starting to regret what had happened between them?

“Hailey, if you keep staring down your pint like that, it’s likely to evaporate,” Millie’s clipped voice cut through Hailey’s worrying.

“You do seem awful quiet, tonight,” Iris agreed.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just tired.” Hailey punctuated the excuse with a yawn. It was believable enough, she’d had to work two hours extra to make up for being late to work. Of course, she’d chosen the busiest day ever at the garage to be tardy. Still, she’d happily do it all over again. If only she knew whether or not Jean felt the same. As much as it would hurt, she wouldn’t be shocked if Jean had changed her mind about them being more than friends. She held no delusions of grandeur about herself or her standing. Her friends would tell her she was too harsh on herself, especially Iris, but they hadn’t had her life, her experiences.

Hailey had grown up a farm girl, through and through. Even before she was ten, her worth had been calculated by how quickly she could milk a cow or butcher a pig. By how much income she could bring in for the family. Then, she hit puberty. Her eyes had started wandering in directions they shouldn’t have, but she hadn’t known well enough to hide it or fight against it. At sixteen, she was caught in her bedroom by her mother, red-handed and even redder-faced, with one hand down her pants, the other gripping tightly to a raunchy illustration of a woman that she’d found stashed in the tool shed. She'd barely had the chance to make herself decent before her mother’s howls brought her father rushing into the room, demanding to know what was going on. Everything changed then. Suddenly, it didn’t matter at all how good a farmer Hailey was shaping up to be. No, she’d proven herself totally worthless. Good for nothing but the fiery pits of hell, in her father’s words. She’d endured the torment for a month, listening to things nobody should ever have to hear from their own folks, before deciding that she’d had enough. She would leave, or she would shrivel up and die on that farm.

Running away had taken so much courage, Hailey wouldn’t deny that, but the hateful things her parents had said to her had left their mark. Those words had cut her more deeply than she’d ever admit. That sort of thing stayed with you for all time, and too often left you wondering if you would ever really be good enough. If you would ever deserve to be happy. To be loved.

“Excuse me, ladies, I hope you don’t mind me borrowing one of your number for a while,” Archie said as he drifted over to the table. “You see, I’ve got a room full of patrons just waiting to hear the best pianist on the West Coast do her thing.”

“Now, Archie, you know flattery never worked on me,” Iris replied, even though she was already out of her seat. Iris loved to play to a crowd, she was a real performer. That was the certainty of a woman who knew her worth. “I don’t suppose tonight’s the night I’ll finally talk you into joining me up there?” Iris went on, giving Hailey an expectant look.

“Nope. Not on your life, Sarge.” It was neither the first nor last time Iris would try to get her up on that stage.

“Oh, Hailey, why not? You have such a beautiful voice,” Jean prodded unexpectedly. It  _ was _ the first time someone other than Iris had told her she should sing. Hailey caught Jean’s eye, hopeful that this spelled an end to the awkwardness between them, thinking that if anyone could talk her into singing to a crowded bar, it was Jean McBrian. Her hopes were dashed when Jean averted her gaze, pointedly looking away. ““I’m just popping to the ladies’,” Jean blurted out, getting up and leaving the table along with Iris.

_ She needs to get away from me _ , Hailey thought, her inner voice bitter and cruel. She’d always known really, that she’d had no place hanging around with the likes of Jean, or falling in love with the likes of her. Damn, if the confirmation didn’t hurt though.

“I do hope you’ll excuse my best friend’s behaviour tonight,” Millie said, watching Jean’s retreating form. She had picked up on the tension in the air after all.

_ Great. Just swell. _

“I think it’s difficult for her, keeping a secret like the one you two are having to keep,” Millie went on. “She’s rather out of practice you see. Ask her to keep a hundred state secrets, and she'll manage without a fuss. Secrets of the heart, though?” Millie shook her head.

“You really think that’s what’s wrong? That she doesn’t wish last night never happened?” Hailey asked. She hated the quiver in her voice, but there was no point hiding her worries from Millie. Once that woman had the truth in her sights, it was time to throw in the towel.

“Goodness me, no! Is that what you’ve been stewing over all evening, you ridiculous thing?”

“Can you really blame me?” Hailey asked. She let out a great sigh. “I know she’s way out of my league.”

“No she isn’t,” Millie responded matter-of-factly. “Jean is a fantastic woman, it’s true. And I admit we’ve not gotten to know each other that well yet, but I do know one thing. Please believe me when I say that I have no doubts whatsoever that you are absolutely,  _ positively,  _ worthy of her. It can take some effort, to see the many wonders underneath those bloody cardigans of hers. I’m so very glad that it was you, Hailey, who took the time to look for them.”

“I like those ‘bloody cardigans’,” Hailey tried and failed to impersonate Millie’s voice, earning a snort, “and actually, it took me no time at all to see how amazing Jean is. I think she’s perfect.” she ran her mouth.

“Well, I’m pleased to hear it, and I have it on very good authority that she thinks the same about you.” Millie shot her a wink.

“Really? She told you that?” The thought of Jean going around, saying lovely things about her to other people made her heart thud.

“Oh, darling, she didn’t need to.” Millie paused  to light up a cigarette, taking a long drag as she considered Hailey. “Jean’s very good at staying tight-lipped about her feelings, but her body is quite awful at hiding them. The fool probably knows as much, and is trying to overcompensate for it.” As she offered her explanation for Jean’s behaviour, Millie's eyes fell to a spot over Hailey's shoulder.

Hailey turned her head briefly and saw Jean emerging from the bathroom. She flashed a smile, but turned back towards Millie with a frown when Jean failed to return it.

“As I feared. You wait right here,” Millie said, rising from her chair.

“Where are you going?”

“To talk some sense into my best friend. I'm not having you moping for the rest of the evening. Not because she hasn't got the gumption to even return a smile without thinking the whole club will suddenly know you've seen her with her legs in the air!” Evidently, Millie had watched the entire wordless exchange like a hawk. If Hailey had any reservations about Millie's plan, she was given no chance to voice them. She could only watch, somewhere between amused and terrified on Jean's behalf, as Millie approached Jean at a marching pace.

She sure meant business.

 

* * *

 

 

Millie made full use of her long stride and headed Jean off well before she made it to their table. She reached out and put an insistent hand on Jean’s elbow. “You’re coming with me,” she ordered, pulling her friend in the direction of the bar.

Jean shot her best stink-eye at Millie’s offending hand. “What-”

“We’re getting in another round,” she cut Jean’s protest off at the quick, saying the first excuse that popped into her head, to convince Jean to let herself be diverted.

“I didn’t think we were ready for the next one,” Jean complained, but at least she stopped dawdling and fell into step with Millie, so that she felt confident enough to let go of her arm.

“Call it being proactive,” Millie offered. She made it to the bar and gave Archie a wave. Now that they were here, she thought she might as well make good on getting fresh drinks in. Plus, waiting for Archie to take their order gave her the chance to properly figure out how to approach the real subject at hand. “The same again, please,” she said, once Archie made it over to where she and Jean stood.

“Oh, Hailey wants cola next, she’s driving,” Jean corrected.

Archie gave a nod. “Coming right up, ladies,” he said, moving away to fix their beverages.

Millie waited no longer than it took for Archie to get out of earshot before she pounced, using the opening that Jean had unwittingly presented to full effect. “My goodness, so you are aware that Hailey has joined us this evening? She spoke in a loud whisper, still wary of listening ears. “I was beginning to wonder.”

A strange concoction of emotions passed over Jean’s face, ranging from confusion, to dejection at being caught out. There was no doubt she knew now exactly why Millie had dragged her over to the bar. “What are you wittering on about?” Jean tried her best to feign ignorance, stubborn ‘til the last.

“You know what, Jean. You’ve been giving the poor girl the cold shoulder all evening. She’s been practically beside herself worrying that you regret what happened last night.”

“She hasn’t, has she?”

“Yes. We’ve had quite the heart-to-heart while you went to the bathroom. Or should I say escaped to?”

Jean looked about ready to keel over and bang her head against the bar. Millie could almost do it for her, if it would knock some sense into her. “Oh, bugger,” Jean muttered, indulging a rare curse word. “I thought she would know that I was just … I can’t…” she struggled to explain herself, “I don’t know how to act around her in front of everyone. In front of Iris. I feel like one wrong move, one overly familiar touch or glance, and the secret will be out,” Jean managed at last.

“I understand, darling, I do,” Millie said gently, “but really, unless you’re unable to resist snogging her face off if you so much as look at her, I think you’re being a little overzealous.”

Jean gave a small chuckle at that, quieting when Archie returned with their drinks. The pair thanked him and waited for him to move away again before continuing. “I’m quite out of my depth with all this, Millie,” Jean said, “and things are so different these days,  _ Hailey _ is so different from the girl I was at her age. So much more open and unapologetic about who she is.”

“So let that inspire you, not scare you off.” Millie placed a hand over Jean’s on the bar. “You have no idea how amazing it’s been,” she spoke slowly, wanting every word to sink in, “to watch you come alive again since we came here. Since we met Hailey. To see you happier and more carefree than I think I’ve ever seen you before, it’s all I could ever wish for as your best friend. As your sister.”

Jean gave a smile strained with emotion and patted the back of the hand Millie still held over her own.

“Now, please, go over there and apologise,” Millie urged. “I honestly think you’ll be spectacular together. Do let me find out, you know how I adore being right.”

 

* * *

 

 

The walk back to the table took longer than it should have, not only because Jean was carrying two drinks, or because she was apprehensive about reaching her destination, but also because she stopped dead in her tracks three-quarters of the way there. She stood and just watched Hailey watching Iris play. Her heart swelled at the rapture in Hailey’s expression, the way she let herself be totally carried away by the music. The aura of unfettered joy emanating from Hailey made her look radiant, even more beautiful than usual. It was only when Iris played the song’s last notes to enthusiastic applause that Jean caught herself, and started walking again. After worrying that a simple smile would give the game away, here she was at the opposite end of the spectrum, shamelessly ogling Hailey in the middle of the bustling club. She made it to the table at last, and set Hailey’s cola down on the placemat with a thud, to get her attention.

“Thanks,” Hailey said, eyes darting from the cola up to Jean’s face, expression searching.

Jean made a point of inching her chair closer to Hailey’s, angling it towards her before taking a seat, setting her own fresh pint down. “I owe you an apology, Hailey,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap.

“What for?”

“I’ve behaved poorly towards you this evening. I’m finding it difficult to know how to act around you, and I took that out on you when I shouldn't have. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Hailey said with a half-smile. “There’s worse things than getting the brush-off because a lady doesn’t know how to keep her cool. I’m glad it wasn’t ‘cus you were having second thoughts.”

“Not a chance,” Jean assured. “I’m just a little out of practice with all this.”

Amusement flashed in Hailey’s eyes and she bit her lip. “Could have fooled me.”

“Oh,  _ you _ .” Jean gave Hailey’s knee a tap, daring to let her hand linger for just a second, confident that the tabletop offered sufficient cover from prying eyes.

“In all seriousness though, I get it. I know I don’t always seem to give a damn what people think about… that part of me, but I do.” Hailey shook her head. “See, I can’t even say it out loud. I tried, when I told Iris. Couldn’t do it. So in lots of ways, we’re in the same boat.”

“Well, that’s certainly one way of putting it,” Jean laughed at her own joke. Hailey made a good point, however. If they couldn't even speak it aloud to one another, who could they say it to? She took a deep breath, thinking about what Millie had said about letting Hailey’s bravery inspire her. There was a grand thing about inspiration; it was very much a two way street. You take heart from someone, and in turn you let that newfound courage bolster them right back, so that you lift each other up and achieve so much more than you ever could alone. Jean wanted to pull her weight. “You told Iris that you’re a lesbian?” The word felt so foreign as it rolled off her tongue. Even though, by all rights, it should have felt as familiar to Jean as calling herself Scottish, and it should have filled her with the same sense of pride and belonging too.

Hailey’s eyes widened at Jean’s sudden fit of openness. She grinned once the initial shock wore off. “Well, like I said, I didn’t have the moxie to put it like that.  _ Wow _ .” Hailey crossed her arms and slouched more comfortably in her chair. “Is it weird that I found hearing you say that ridiculously attractive?”

“Hailey, I think that you finding anything about me ‘ridiculously attractive’ is rather strange,” Jean replied. “I’m sure I’ll get used to the idea, though,” she added, before Hailey could protest. “Am I to assume that Iris took it well, then?”

“She took some warming up to the idea, but I think so. At least, it doesn’t feel like anything has changed between us.”

“I’m glad. You’re fortunate to have her looking out for you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Hailey agreed without hesitation.

“I should tell you, this morning, Iris made the assumption that you’ve been ferrying me to and from dates with Nigel Beamish,” Jean admitted. “I didn’t correct her, of course. It’s your place to decide if and when you want to tell her about us.”

“There’s an ‘us’?” Hailey asked with such earnest hope in her voice, that it made Jean want to squeeze her into a hug and never let her go.

“Yes, dear. At least, I’d like there to be, if you feel the same way?”

“You know I do, Jean.” She saw Hailey’s throat shift as she swallowed. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

Now it was her own turn to gulp, as her stomach began to turn somersaults. “I’d like that,” she answered with certainty. Still, there was one major problem. “Though, how are we supposed to make our exit without raising suspicions?” She motioned her head towards Iris, who’d finished her performance and since wandered over to join Millie at the bar. The two of them were talking animatedly with Archie. Millie caught Jean’s eye and gave a wave, before heading towards the table with Iris in tow.

“Maybe we shouldn’t worry about that,” Hailey suggested, her voice quiet. She watched their friends approach too. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Jean responded simply, for no elaboration was necessary. Even if she’d felt the need to say more, she wouldn’t have been able to, for it was right after she’d spoken that Millie and Iris rejoined the table.

“Hello, loves, what have we missed?” Millie asked as she sat down.

“Not much,” Hailey was the first to reply. “Actually, Jean and I are gonna make tracks,” she announced as she stood up.

Jean’s heart leaped into her mouth and she found herself fighting back the instinct to deny what Hailey had just said. She had told her she trusted her, after all. She had to believe that Hailey knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly what to say to start getting Iris accustomed to the idea of them being an ‘ _ us’ _ . Step by step. It wasn’t as though Hailey had spelled things out. It was more likely that Iris would think they both wanted an early night, in their own homes, in their own beds, than anything else. Jean felt her heart return to its correct location, and then she noticed the devilish look Millie was throwing her way and the organ dropped into her stomach instead. “Pardon the early exit,” she said, hoping that her voice didn’t sound too nervous. She stood up too, painfully aware that Millie and Iris were watching her every move.

“Don’t worry a thing about it. There’s no exaggerating the benefits of an early night. Especially after working such a long day,” Iris said with a pointed and all-together motherly look at Hailey. Still, it made Jean feel much better, that Iris hadn’t seen anything untoward about she and Hailey leaving together.

“Goodnight, ladies,” Millie said, with a level voice that would have convinced anyone except Jean.

With that, Hailey made to leave and Jean went along beside her. When they reached the door, Hailey held it open and motioned her through, in her typical and irresistibly chivalrous way. As she passed by her, Hailey put a gentle hand to the small of her back, barely above her buttocks. It was only for a moment, but long enough that Millie and Iris surely must have seen it happen. When Jean jerked her head to give Hailey a questioning look, she merely winked in response. Jean was reminded that things were never step by step with Hailey. More leap by great, alarming leap. She had revealed that she was having a problem keeping their secret and Hailey had done what came naturally to her. She’d jumped to fix the problem. Just like that, feet first and with no parachute. She really did know how to get her heart pounding. Jean wouldn’t have her any other way.

 

* * *

 

 

Iris watched Hailey and Jean leave the club with great interest, a niggle in the back of her mind assuring her that she was missing something obvious. Her eyes grew large as she caught sight of Hailey's hand, resting low on Jean's back as she ushered her through the door, the touch far too intimate to be a mere friendly gesture. It was the unmistakably tender caress of a lover. Everything started to click into place, in much the same that things did when she at last solved the mystery of a coded message. In a way, that's exactly what she had done. 

Her attention shifted to her remaining drinking companion, and found that Millie was studying her closely, no doubt watching the cogs turn in her mind. “It isn't Mr Beamish that Jean's been stepping out with, is it?” she asked.

Millie said nothing. She hadn't expected her to, Millie would know well enough that it wasn't her place to confirm or deny such a thing. She did however give Iris one of her looks, eyes narrow and lips pursed. It was an expression the Devil himself would envy and it was worth any number of words.

She took a long breath, as if it might help her to absorb this new information. “Lord, I hope that girl knows what she's doing,” she muttered.

“I could say the same about Jean, you know,” Millie pointed out, holding Iris's gaze. “The thing is, one of the greatest obstacles a new relationship can face is the belief that one’s friends aren’t supportive of your happiness. Let’s not give our girls reason to think that. I’d hate for them to end up heartbroken, not least because we’ll both feel it necessary to give each other's best friend  _ what for _ . ”

“Oh, no. We don't want that.” Iris gave a shake of the head. Perish the very thought that she wouldn’t want to see Hailey happy. Of course she wanted that, just as much as she wished a lifetime of joy for Dennis and Cady. Hailey featured in her prayers just as often as her biological children and always would, no matter what. That girl had been let down by her family once before, Iris wouldn’t ever see her rejected in that way again. “I want nothing more than for Hailey to find love,” Iris assured, “it’s just, a little unexpected is all, the place where she seems to have found it.”

“I’ll say, but doesn’t that just make it even more fantastic? None of us could have known that this would be the outcome of my dragging Jean halfway across the world.”

“I guess there’s no such thing as travelling too far in search of happiness,” Iris agreed.  _ Hailey and Jean. _ It would take some getting used to, and she did feel obligated to have a word with Hailey, just to make sure that she had thought everything through. From the age difference, to the fact that they were both women, there were a lot of factors that could easily count against them in this often unjust world. Still, Millie was right. Iris wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she became one of those factors. She’d never prevent Hailey from being loved as she deserved to be, and there was nothing at all about Jean that suggested that she wasn’t up to the task of giving that love.

Iris allowed herself to smile. It sure was going to be something, to bear witness to this unexpected, but thoroughly joyous, turn of events. It might get difficult. It might be smooth sailing. Most likely, it would be a dizzying mixture of the two. It was the very stuff of life.

 

**FIN.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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